


Mi Casa Es Tu Casa - On Temporary Hiatus

by Anxious_Apple



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Canon-Typical Violence, Coincidences, Coming Out, Criminal Masterminds, Cute Kids, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Gay Panic, Illegal Activities, Inspired by Sherlock (TV), Lexi is a matchmaker, Long, M/M, My first Multichapter, Partners in Crime, Plotty, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Drugs, Secrets, Sexual Abuse, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Stalking, Strangers to Friends, Therapy, hero callum highway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22958710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anxious_Apple/pseuds/Anxious_Apple
Summary: Returning from the front line with a broken leg, and a helluva lot of trauma, Callum Highway finds himself in an entirely different world than the one he left behind.When the opportunity comes for him to share a flat with cocky guy called Ben he finds himself once again pulled into a world of conflict and intense relationships.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 9
Kudos: 56





	1. Insomnia; Tossing and turning

**Author's Note:**

> To be perfectly honest I didn't do much research into the Army and the way it operatesd. However if I include into future chapters I will be sure to be more informed. Also this fic will most probably be slow to update, due to damn university commitments!

He only had to close his eyes and he was back there, seeing everything, feeling everything, and hearing what wasn't totally obliterated by the explosions. Each gunshot sent pulses of white shooting through his head and beneath his feet, the clay turned from mustard-y brown to a vivid, bloody red. The warzone was a foreign planet, both a featureless abyss and a horror show at the same time. Nothing could help him forget that, not the pills, not the drink, not even his counsellor. She tried, and he tried (with all the will in the world) but it was all for nought. Just like this fucking war then. They'd been here for months now, and the things they'd achieved had been minimal. They'd disarmed some roadside bombs and liberated a few settlements from Militia control, but at the end of the day they were no closer to a victory. Whatever a victory would mean for him.

With wild eyes he scanned his surroundings, hoping for anything he could hide behind, or even better somewhere he could run to. If only he could get away. That was his best chance. His legs told him to run, begged him, almost doing it of their own accord. But he couldn't run. He couldn't escape. Somewhere ahead of him were his section, trudging through the combat-zone shielding their eyes from the midday sun. At the back of the group, Lance Corporal Davis was yelling for him, shouting, his voice raw, he was waving too, urging him along.  
"HURRY THE HELL UP HIGHWAY! NOW!" He bellowed; his voice raw and scratchy when it reached Callum’s ears.  
"HIGHWAY! DO I HAVE TO DRAG YOU?! COME ON!" he was losing his patience. Understandable considering the situation, but nevertheless it sent a jolt of panic shooting up his spine. He was about to move, to comply with his orders but then the hairs went up on the back of his neck. He felt instinctively that something was wrong, although he couldn’t quite explain it.

Davis continued to shout, his frustration turning him bitter “HAVE YOU LOST THE PLOT? WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT NOW? IF IT’S A BLOKE WITH A GUN I DOUBT HE’LL WANT TO SHAKE YOUR SHITTIN’ HAND!”

But still Callum continued to gawp across the wastes, the featureless landscape offering a clear line of sight to whatever horrors were happening back there. But there was no horror for once, or none close to hand. Instead, and as if out of nowhere another soldier had appeared. He was walking aimlessly across the parched earth, as casual as you like, almost as if he was taking a stroll through the park on a Sunday afternoon. Callum’s heart flipped with the sight of him, his nerves immediately standing on end, he was for the first time imbued with the fight part of the fight or flight response.

“Chris!” He shouted, in unison with another percussive blast, completely ignoring Davis. The other man continued his walk, without even looking up. Callum’s heart dropped with every step he took, he just wasn't going to catch up. He wasn’t ever going to save him. Another explosion sent grit in every direction, smattering his hair in dirt. A tiny hailstorm of clay and sand raining over his head.   
“Chris!” He yelled again; his voice somehow smaller than it had ever been before, he might as well be shouting from the bottom of a well.  
Davis had no such trouble. “HIGHWAY YOU BLOODY HALFWIT!” He continued to roar “COME THE FUCK ON!”

Callum couldn’t move though, he couldn’t just leave him, it felt undeniably, irrefutably wrong to turn his back. So he didn’t, he took one step towards the wanderer… But that was when the world began to collapse. Reality folded in on itself at one exact spot, the one where the soldier’s boot met with an explosive buried in the dirt. He saw it in slow-motion, the ground erupting with fire, the air erupting in noise. It swallowed Chris up in a moment, but it seemed to Callum a lifetime, what with all the screaming he was doing, and the anguished disbelief rooting him to the spot.

Callum woke up in an instant, his skin was plastered in sweat. He was thrashing in his duvet like a man drowning. Eventually he freed himself from his bed, and the memory.

As soon as he had, he felt an explosion of embarrassment within him. His face turned hot, there was a pouring of realisation from head to toe. He wasn’t in Afghanistan; he wasn’t at war at all. Instead he was in his freezing cold bedroom, in the middle of London. What's more he was alone. His only companion was the picture of his section, looking back at him from his bedside table.   
When he looked at them, and their smiling faces he wondered what they were doing now, how many of them had died. He wondered how many of them had gone like Chris had, in an instant and with no warning. A lump formed in his throat, so before he could set about crying, he picked up the frame and slammed it flat on it’s face.


	2. The Empty Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I'm much much more into this fic than I thought I was! Thanks so much for all the positive feedback so far, and love to all my lovely readers who've empowered me to do this.  
> You can follow me on Tumblr @Anxious-Apple for updates, and liveblogging shenanigans whenever something cutesy and Ballum related goes down on TV. Although I might also be screaming about one of my more niche fandoms (Star Trek) if you can put up with that you might have fun :)

He had to get somewhere else, somewhere better than this. He’d been putting up with the pain for too long. He sat in the silence for a moment, sweat still pooling on his brow. He could still make out the tiniest sounds of explosions, and staccato bullets from the next room. He knew they weren’t there though; his next-door neighbour was a 65-year-old woman who lived with her cats. The only so-called weapon she had was a bubble gun that her tabby Molly liked to play with. She was enthusiastic about it, and found her cat’s antics hilarious, often regaling Callum with stories as they passed each other.   
Why the hell were the sounds getting louder then? And overlapping, building up until they were deafening. He covered his ears praying for the noise to die down. When they didn’t, he hit the dirt, throwing himself forward to lie face down on the carpet.  
On his stomach, he squeezed his eyes shut, so tight they hurt, and prayed for his safety. He screamed into the desolate bedroom. He screamed until his throat was raw and he could only exclaim in silence.   
This attack lasted for 20 minutes. 

Once his fear had finished wracking him, he somehow managed to stand. His body didn’t want him to, his legs were spaghetti. He used his bed as an aid, pushing down on the mattress as he stretched his legs. Then he stumbled across the room to begrudgingly pick up his crutch, it was mocking him from across the miles of carpet. What was he doing today? It was the same question that he’d asked himself for the last month, the same question he feared he would ask for the rest of his life. His stomach had tied itself in a knot.   
A solution sprung to his mind, he picked up his mobile and rifled through his contacts. It was a long shot, and since the bloke ran a pub he would probably be busy… but it was worth a go. Anything was worth a go at this point.   
He pressed call. 

The air filled with the phone’s dial tone for a moment, it was almost painful waiting for it to be picked up. The voice was business-like when it finally came through.   
“Mick Carter, the Queen Victoria, Walford, How can I ‘elp ya?”   
Despite his mood, Callum found himself smiling slightly.   
“Hiya Mick” He said, “it’s Callum.”  
“Halfway!” The guy on the other end of the phone was beaming. “How you doin’ lad?” Clearly he wasn’t bothered about professionalism anymore.   
“Just got from my tour’.” Callum explained “Think I could pop round? Catch up?”   
“Of course” the landlord said with a smile in his voice (which he knew would be complimented with a jovial slap on the back when they met)  
It was too easy, he hesitated “you sure?”   
“Bleedin’ ‘ell Halfway, you think that after bein’ away for four months I don’ wanna good natter? I ain’t seen ya in ages.”  
His shoulders relaxed, his chest de-compressed. Some semblance of normality bled back into his world “Half twelve alright for you?” He asked, unable to stop the quirk in the corners of his mouth.   
“I’ll let linda know” 

***

“You still livin’ on your own?” Mick said handing him some tea, then sitting down in the chair opposite. He smiled, but there was a hint of sadness there. The reason for the melancholy was quick to rise to the surface.  
“Must be tough comin’ back to an empty flat eh?” he mused, watching Callum over the lip of his mug.   
“I ‘spose” Callum affirmed, clutching his own drink to his chest. He enjoyed the warmth too much to waste it on taking a sip just yet. The sensation tethered him to his body. It was a technique he’d been told about for grounding, reminding him of his hands, his arms, his chest. He counted to 10 and let Mick talk. Although if he was being honest he wasn’t really listening.   
“I mean I got Linda, and Ollie, couldn’t imagine what I’d do without ‘em. Got mates though ain’t ya”   
This was a statement more than a question, Mick already knew. To everyone else he was Halfway Highway, the goofy lad with the jokes and the big ears. He would do anything for anybody.   
“Yeah” Callum mumbled, before stopping dead, his head flooded with the question. Did he have mates? Real, true, traditional mates? Mates as Mick would think of them? Pub-going, Lady-killing, footie watching mates? Maybe not, not here anyway. Here he had the lady next door, and the guy that regularly served him at ‘Spoons. Callum thought through his mental list and struck a line through everyone he’d left behind. Those blokes that were still out there, putting their lives on the line every single day. They were braver than he could ever be.  
Dylan Evans, Joe Wilkinson, Lloyd Cox and Chris Kennedy of course, each of his section gone with the stroke of an imaginary pen. The rest of the lads, even brief acquaintances had been forgotten entirely too. Though he couldn’t forget the face of the Cook who’d given him an extra rasher of birthday bacon once. She was lovely, always smiling and trying to keep everyone’s spirits up. In a way she reminded him of his favourite old schoolteacher, she had the same roundness, the same warmth about her.  
Turned out, after this game of elimination, the list of people he still had in his life despairingly brief.   
Mick,  
Shirley,  
Tina,  
Lee.  
There was Julie too and she knew more about him than anyone. He felt more comfortable discussing his stupid head with her than anybody else, but she was an outlier. She was paid to listen to him, so she didn’t count as a real friend. Neither did the nameless woman on the other side of the Samaritans Hotline.  
He was struck by grief. It poured over him like an ice cold shower. Starting at his scalp and working it’s way down, his body felt fizzy. What the hell was he doing? And how the hell had he ended up like this? What had he done to lose everyone that mattered to him?   
  
Aware that he’d been too quiet, for too long he swallowed. His embarrassment and his pride sliding town his throat with his first sip of tea. He coughed a little as his feelings stuck there too.   
“I’m used to livin’ on my own I guess.” He said. It was embarrassing, he knew how quiet his life could be.   
Even though it was tricky to get those words out, they felt better now that they were out in the open. Mick got what he was saying and responded in an impossibly masculine way.  
“I know Cal, livin’ the Bachelor lifestyle in your own pad is fun for a youngsta. You can eat whatever you want, bring home whatever bird you fancy from a night out, watch anything you want on the box.”  
“Yeah” Callum spoke softly. His thoughts wandered to his TV, which had stood unused for the past four weeks, and his creaky single bed, which hadn’t ever seen a woman. It’d seen altogether too much of him.   
He knew it was sad. His whole life was sad. Not sad with loss, or tragedy or anything, just a bit pathetic.   
  
“Get’s a bit lonely though don’t it?” Mick said, and it woke Callum up.   
More than you know. He thought.   
What can I do on my own, when I’m at war with my own head? I can’t just reach in there and squeeze until it shuts up! I’ve just got to live with it.   
“Mick?” he said, his voice suddenly shaky. It was almost out of his control. But then so were his hands, and his left leg just wouldn’t stop bouncing.   
Mick gawped “What?”   
“Know anywhere that might have a room spare?”   
“Well… there’s nowhere here,” meaning the Vic “Thinkin’ about it though I ‘eard someone in ‘ere was looking for someone to split his rent with.”  
“Great” Callum said, a genuine smile for once lighting him up from the inside. He also managed to stop shaking. He had hope “That’d be brilliant.”  
Mick’s face was sour, his smile reluctant “He ain’t exactly a friend, more a… acquaintance but I’ll see what I can do”


	3. First Assumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben is having a hectic morning, when a potential new flatmate turns up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to publish shorter chapters so that you get consistent updates. It might not be the "Ideal" format, but it's a pretty good method of me being productive with fics, whilst also getting other stuff done. 
> 
> Anyway hope you're enjoying this fic! I'm having a blast writing it :)

Mornings in the Mitchell household were never straightforward, there was always something to do. Be that getting Lexi up for school, or sorting out the mess of the previous night, before she could come in and call him out. She was like that, and she it from her mum. Considering they spent most of the time together it made sense. It didn’t make it any less unnerving.   
Ben could imagine them swapping notes on him over the dinner table after school, he probably even had report cards somewhere, tallying up his successes and failures. Lexi was keen to find both, since she seemed to relish either, but there was still a hint of shame to the things that he did wrong. He was always trying to convince everyone (including himself) that he was a functional father. Considering the situation with his baby’s mum he wasn’t traditionally doing great, was he? He was barely doing good.

This morning provided another failure. It was another one to add to the list; Along with him inviting a date home only for them to pass out on Lexi’s bedroom floor, or that time when they had visited the zoo together and he’d started chatting up a guy who was telling the crowd about Zebras. That was only in the last two weeks! He’d probably done far worse stuff before she’d come back in to his life; but thankfully most of that was off the record.   
Ben was in the kitchen, bustling about, when the doorbell rang. He was juggling various breakfast items and his phone had just gone off. Nobody could have planned more pandemonium! If there was some Truman show level shit going on, if Lexi had pre-choreographed all of it it wouldn’t have been this mad. This was the opportunity for her to slip through the house on tiptoe and peer out through the peephole.  
"Daddy" She called from the hallway, "do you have a new boyfriend?"   
Ben baulked, “No, why?”   
“Because there’s a man at the door.” She paused, judging. “He looks nice." Her voice wasn’t angelic anymore, it was prodding him. Ben almost dropped his slice of toast, incredulity taking over. He tossed it up in the air and managed to catch it awkwardly between his middle fingers (a feat he couldn’t do again if he tried). He put it back on the plate and hurried into the hallway. 

He didn’t look great when he got to the door, hair all over the place, his dressing gown hanging open. Conscious of a stranger seeing his bare chest he fought with the belt. He was urgently tying it when the door swung open, the end result was messy, but it would do.  
“Lexi” He gasped, short of breath just from wrangling with his clothes “go get ready for school, your mum will kill me if you’re late again” without further provocation she wandered off, whistling a happy tune to herself. It sounded suspiciously like a wedding march. He felt his entire body turn red with embarrassment; Lexi wasn’t subtle either.   
True to her word there were men standing at his door.   
“Hiya” the older one offered a hand.   
“Mick” Ben answered, unimpressed, and not taking the greeting limb. “Who’s this?”  
“Your Dad said you was lookin’ for a flatmate. I think I found you a good’un”  
“Name’s Callum Highway” The stranger said.

The man waved. He had been quiet till now, staring at his shoes. What was strangest about him was that he had everything to be confident about, he was tall, had a striking look about him, the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. But why wasn’t he confident? Why was he shrinking into himself, and not quite looking Ben directly in the eye? This curiosity quickly devolved into indifference.   
“Alright?” Callum said. If you could call his lip quirk a smile, then he smiled at him too.   
Ben responded with a nod but spoke to Mick.   
“He din’t tell anyone I was lookin’… he didn’t… say he had.” He never says anything to me at all.   
Mick coughed in embarrassment “Actually it was Kathy I heard off first, when I was having a morning cuppa in the caff”  
Ben put his hands on his hips, his face turned thunderous “so you just decided to get me a flatmate, without askin’ first? Without seein’ what I wanted?” The trademark Mitchell fire was obvious to everyone. He would scold himself later, he hated getting mad in front of his daughter. Even though she wasn’t in the room he could just see her pressing her ear against her bedroom door to hear what was going on.

Mick went on as if it hadn’t happened “Like I said, this one’s a good’un, friendly, polite, tidy. You good with kids?”   
Callum blinked at the sudden question directed his way. He almost flinched. “I think so?” He answered, searching behind his ear-   
“I’ve looked after Ollie before ain’t I” he finally said, triumphant.   
It was a mutual remembrance “Oh course. Yeah. He’s good with kids-”   
“Woah woah woah.” Ben interrupted their conversation “I ain’t got time for this right now. Lex!” He called, “You better be gettin’ ready!”  
“Yes daddy” she shouted back. “Nearly done”  
“Come back later yeah? Lola ain’t back till 6. We can chat then if you’re proper serious.”   
As if on queue Lexi bounded down the stairs. She was wearing her blue jumper, swinging her book bag and grinning.   
“Hello Dad’s friends!” she said with an even wider smile when she reached the hallway again.   
“This is Lexi” Ben said with a sigh. “And she’s just off to school. I’ve got to take her actually so-“  
“We can wait around? Won’t be long.” Mick suggested to Callum. He patted him on the back.   
“Or we can come with ya?” Callum said, “Get to know ya a bit better.” He turned a strange colour, his interjection too eager. It was strange to ask if he could come to school with a stranger and his kid. It didn’t matter that it was a glorified ice breaker. Imagine what everyone would think of them. 

Ben eyed Callum for a moment, taking in what he’d just said. “I’ll only be 10 minutes. If ya wanna go get a drink or summat. I just… need to uhm-get dressed.”   
In the meantime Lexi had slipped past the visitors, and was standing on the garden path. She looked like she was trying to seem grumpy “come on Daddy!” she stomped her foot “It’s nearly nine o’clock!”  
Mick gave him a knowing look “Kids eh?”   
Ben hm’d grumpily, before turning tail and heading upstairs.


	4. The Businessman In Slippers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After months of waiting, and wading through uni work, she is BACK! Hope you guys enjoy the chapter

While Mick and Callum stood outside, the closed front door preventing them from peering. It also prevented Ben from peering out at them. Although he was probably busy throwing on whatever clothes were lying around for him to be that bothered about what was being said about him. He struck Callum as a guy that was too confident for that anyway. Self doubt and self consciousness didn't seem to be his style, not for guys like that, guys that were just so _themselves_. There were plenty of blokes just like Ben in the ranks, so pumped up with all their bravado, they practically burst with it... They wore their masculinity as a kind of armour and would egg each other on to to do all sorts of rowdy things, getting drunk, dancing, gossiping like little boys about their lives _back home_. Not all of them were as genuine though, there were some who would stop with that line of defence as soon as they were alone, lads like Chris, who used their masculinity as a disguise, to stop the wrong people seeing the real them. Since he was so used to seeing he was almost _sure_ something was different, but thenthinking about Chris sent a sharp, piercing pain through his chest which was followed up by a all encompassing numbness that spread _all over_ his body.

Lexi was stood still in the middle of the garden path and the longer that she stood there the more annoyed she seemed to get. She was tapping a toe insolently and her hands on her hip.

Realising his weird silence Callum looked at her and smiled, although he felt like he was betraying himself in the attempt, so it came out looking more like a grimace.

Still the change came over her as quickly as a change in the tide, she started to smirk and ran up to him headlong like a charging bull. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hung there. After a moment she leaned back, almost bending in half at the waist to look up at his face. He looked at her numbly, his arms pinned to his sides.  
"I don't care if you're his new boyfriend, or you ain't,“ her voice boomed in Callum’s ears ”you better teach my dad better pun-punt-punctu-"  
"Punctuality" Callum offered without thinking, the frustration in the kid's eyes evident even to him, as her tongue fumbled around the word that she couldn't quite get a grip on.  
"Yeah that." she said, "it's the second time he's been late this week."  
"It's only Tuesday" he was oddly proud he knew what day it was, considering how messed up the last few weeks had been, how _in his head_ he’d been. He would’ve been proud to tell anyone what the _year_ was.

"Exactly." - (this sounded like ezacly) "He's a bit rubbish and he needs some help.“ then she added, almost as an afterthought ”do you know Queer Eye?"

"Lex!

Ben's voice suddenly sounded from the upstairs window, almost as if he was reprimanding her, but he couldn’t have been! Instead of taking offence (out loud) she rolled her eyes, sighed heavily, and unclasped herself from Callum's waist. “What does he want now?” she sighed then she trotted inside like a semi-obedient dog, and heartily slammed the door, so that the window panes rattled.

When she got inside Ben was in the hallway, this time with a tee-shirt and shorts on, not to mention his signature Dad look. This was the sort of face that he put on when he was going to tell her off, and lo and behold he did!  
  
"Lex!" He said, cringing as she let the door crash shut "close that a bit louder next time, the 'ole street didn't quite hear ya."  
but she wasn't listening, she was too focused on his bare feet, which looked like slabs of marble against the carpet.  
"Why ain't you wearin' your shoes?" She asked innocently,   
"Dunno but I think you've been playin' dress up with 'em again 'aven't ya?""  
"No." she crossed her arms, and sounded hurt that she'd get accused of such a thing. She was 7 now after all, not a baby. Instead she was trying on costumes for her latest dance show. Her mind wandered off as her dad carried on.  
"Well I can’t find ‘em, and they ain't just gone walkabouts on their own 'ave they?"  
Lexi was silent.  
Ben was exasperated "Lexi!" he scalded  
"No but I ain't moved 'em."  
"Well who has? The shoe fairy?"

She shrugged with her whole body, and threw out a huge sigh. 

"Well can you look please"  
"You know what you said about mummy if I missed school? Well Miss Richmond will be the same if I'm late."   
"find me somethin' to put on my feet and we can go, can't we?"  
This was it! This was her chance, she disappeared for a moment, skipping through the flat and came out of the living room with a sly grin on her face. In her hands where what she thought to be the perfect pair of shoes to walk her dad to school in.  
"You're kiddin'" he sighed, looking at the ' _shoes_ ' which certainly weren't his.  
 _I'm certainly not_ the look she gave him said as she proffered the footwear towards his stomach. 

Ben eventually trudged out of the house, cheeks ruddy from embarrassment. It wasn't difficult to see why, on his feet were the fluffiest pair of slippers that Callum had ever seen. They might not have been too bad if they didn't have two dangling pompoms attached, bobbing merrily just above his ankles. Despite himself Callum found himself smiling, even grinning until his cheeks hurt - maybe he was just hysterical?

  
Ben pointed a finger at the pair of them as he passed, piercing them with his bright blue eyes. It soon put a stop to the frivolous feeling exploding in Callum’s chest, putting a puncture in the which was threatening to lift him up off his feet.

"Don' say a _word_ about this when I get back" then he was gone, dragged along to Walford Primary. It was difficult not to notice the springispring Lexi's step as she led her father to his doom, where all the mum's would _absolutely_ have a laugh at him. That was more than a bit of a pain, since they didn't particularly like him already.

"What a kid. Right little Diva, just like 'er mum" Mick remarked with a chuckle  
 _her mum?_ Callum thought _of course that's where kids come from... but why did I think somethin' else  
_ "Goes to school with our Ollie," Mick continued heedless weather Callum was listening or not "not in the same year obviously, but she 'elps 'im sometimes, if he wants ta say somethin'. Could talk for Britain that one"  
"I gathered" Callum concurred, before drifting into another thoughtful silence.

Before long, Ben was back. He huffed towards the door, and waved them both in.  
"Come on then“ he grumbled, acting like a from a gangster movie ”before anyone else can take the piss."  
Mick couldn't help himself, and smirked as he passed "now why would they do that?"  
"hmm, I bloody wonder" Ben said, throwing himself down in his armchair, and throwing the slippers across the room.

“So.” He said, once Callum had looked sheepishly across the room, at the which now lay in the corner “What’s this about a roommate?” Ben leaned forward, suddenly businesslike and serious in his chair.


End file.
